Blending In and Speaking Out
by 12aria34
Summary: When Elizabeta transfers to a new school in America, she wants to draw as little attention to herself as possible. Maybe becoming Alfred Jones's best friend wasn't the best idea if she didn't appreciate attention. But Alfred has a secret, and she could be the only one to help him keep it. Rated T for eventual intense themes and mild swearing. Sorry about the slow updates.
1. New Girl

_**A/N: Well, I'm hoping this isn't too terrible for my first Hetalia fanfiction. Let's see, it's not that sad yet. But it includes bullying, gay rights, etc., because bullying about stuff like that makes me freak out. People can be so stupid and ignorant. The whole world needs to work harder a being nicer. Yeah, that's just my little rant before you start. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!**_

* * *

"Class, this is our new student, Elizabeta. She comes from…" The teacher stopped to think.

"Hungary," I replied with a smile. Most people would be mad about people forgetting them, but I wasn't. I was fine with people not really remembering who I was. I always forget who other people are too, so I didn't have a right to be angry, anyway. What I didn't like, however, were the looks of astonishment that swept over the other students faces when they heard my accent.

"That's right!" the teacher said, gesticulating her embarrassment by putting her face in her hand. "I should have known, Elizabeta, I'm very sorry. But you can have a seat anywhere you like so we can get started." I instantly heard the sounds of desks scooting around to make room for me. Why were they treating me like some sort of foreign prize? I didn't want to be worshiped and examined.

I decided to sit next to a boy in the back who looked a little lonesome. His desk hadn't moved, so I felt like I could trust him. As soon as I touched that chair, however, notes and whispers were being passed throughout the class. I only caught a few fragments:

"Him?!"

"She doesn't know-"

"But that's –"

Had I made the wrong decision? I hoped not. I looked over at the person I had sat next to. He was engrossed with the math lesson that was going on – it was something I had already learned in Hungary, so I wasn't really paying attention – and was amusing his hands by doodling on his paper. His hair was a dirty blonde that almost looked brown, and it had an awkward little curl sticking straight up. It was kind of funny looking, to tell you the truth, but I liked it.

He seemed to sense my stare and turned to face me. "'Sup," he said.

Sup? What was that supposed to mean?

"Um, hello," I replied.

"Oh, that's right," he said, putting his pencil down with exaggeration. "You're not really very fluent in English yet, are you?"

"I'm fluent," I said quietly, trying not to attract attention from the teacher, "but I just don't know all of the little slang words like… Zup, is it?"

"'Sup," he repeated. "It's short for 'What's up?'"

"Oh, I see. Well then, not much is up. So, what's your name?"

"My name's Alfred. Alfred Jones. And your name's Elizabeta, right?"

"Yes, it is. It's nice to meet you."

"I could say the same about yourself! If you need any help with this, feel free to ask. Helping people is what I do best!" he said, a little too loudly. The teacher shot him a glare that said something like _"If you don't be quiet right now I'll come over there and superglue your mouth shut."_ He closed his mouth tightly and looked back at his math.

I couldn't help but laugh a little at his expression. "I'll be sure to ask," I whispered.

* * *

The bell finally rung and I was released from class. I was still wondering what all of the whispers were about. Alfred seemed like a perfectly nice boy, so why was everyone so worried about him?

The answer came faster than I wanted.

"Hey!" I heard a shrill voice behind me in the hall.

I turned to look at whoever was calling me.

"Hey, you're that new girl from Hungary, right? Elizabeth or something?" A girl with perfectly straightened hair, pulled back by a thick hair band, and enough makeup to give all of the women _and _men of the world a makeover began blabbering to me.

"Elizabeta…" I said, smiling widely.

"Whatever. It is sooooo cool that you're from Hungary! I looooove meeting people from new countries! It must be soooooo hard for you to have moved, huh?"

"Um, no, not really," I said, probably a little too coolly.

"Well anyway, I'm just letting you know that we're always here for you, Elizabeta! We being my friends and I. I'm Ellie, by the way."

Oh God. She was one of those people I hate who obsess over the new kid. "Well, it's nice to meet you, but I should be going…" I said, walking a little faster.

"No, wait! I just have some advice to give you, okay?"

_I don't freaking need advice. _ "Okay, what is it?"

"Don't keep sitting with that one kid you sat with this morning."

I cocked my head to the side. "What, Alfred? Why?"

Ellie looked around and leaned in close to me, as though what she were about to say were earth-shattering and could change the course of history forever.

"He's… well… you know… one of those different people who… well, people say he's… gay."

She spat out the last word like it was toxic. I smirked at her ignorance. "Look, thanks for trying to 'help,' but I don't see anything wrong with it. It's probably just a rumor anyway."

Ellie looked dumbfounded, then gave a scoff and walked away. "Well, then," she whispered with sarcastic anger under her breath. I shrugged. Some people were so stupid.

I stepped into my gym class after a quick stop at my locker to be welcomed by a loud "Hey Lizzie!" I saw Alfred coming towards me at a slow jog. He held up his hand as he got closer and ran right past me.

He looked disappointed. "You were supposed to high five me," he said with false sadness. I laughed and held up my hand. He struck it hard. Very hard. I found myself nearly falling over as I grabbed my stinging fingers.

"My God, Alfred, why did you –"

"Please, call me Al. And I'll call you Lizzie if that works, okay?"

"Fine," I said standing up from my crouched position. "Wow, you high five hard…" I was tall, so I was a little surprised that a guy the same height as I was could overpower me so easily.

"Yeah, that happens. Sorry about that. I'm going to head to the locker room now, so see ya in about five minutes!"

"Okay," I said, hugging my gym uniform tightly to my chest as I walked into the locker room, instinctively wrinkling my nose at the overpowering smell of perfume and hair products. I stood over in the very far corner to avoid the mob of girls who looked as though they would enjoy giving me a "makeover," which is to say painting my face with way too much mascara and spraying my body with a crazy orange spray tan. I had no intention of becoming an oompa loompa while living in America, so being as antisocial as possible in the locker room moved to the very top of my list of important things to do.

When I was finally done changing I made it out to the gym and looked around for Al. He was nowhere to be seen for the first few minutes, but then screams could be heard from the boy's locker room.

"Give them back!" I heard Alfred shouting. "Seriously dude, this isn't cool!"

"It's not like you can't see anything, so stop over exaggerating," a nasal voice interjected. It sounded as though the person was from a different country, too.

"Cut this out! What did I ever do to you, Gil?"

"Psh, you're so gay, that's what," I heard as both came out of the locker room. The one who I assumed was Gil was taller than both Al and I, with pure white hair and… red eyes? Those had to have been color contacts. He held Al's glasses just above his head and out of his reach. A crowd began to gather as my friend struggled to reach his glasses, jumping while Gil taunted and jumped with him.

I had a habit of clenching my fist too tightly when I was angry. Blood welled from the little scrapes in my palm where my nails dug into my skin. I marched over to the cheering mob of students, not caring about my blending in any more. Pushing right through them, I stood right up to Gil's nose. "Give the glasses back," I said, trying to act a little more tough than I was.

"Well, nice to meet you, too," he said, followed by an annoying nasal laugh. "How about you try to get them back, girl? I would hate to be so rude to someone from a new country, but I'll just have to be now…"

I jumped for those glasses, but it was impossible. How did this guy get so tall? After about five minutes, I gave up. He laughed again, his smile curling to the side in this really sickening and devilish way.

"You should have seen yourself, girl! That was just hilarious! Oh Gott, how about your friend here? Wasn't his face just priceless? He probably just wanted to make out with me the whole time, though. He just can't help himself. How about you? You probably can't resist me either." God, he wouldn't stop doing that annoying, sick laugh… I hated it.

So I punched him in the face.

* * *

_**A/N: Wow… this is going to be one interesting story. I actually can't wait to see what I do with this. Ultra proud moments! Ellie isn't supposed to represent a country, in case you were wondering. She's just there to be a snarky mean girl. This took about two week to write because I'm really busy with other writing right now, so don't be surprised if it's a while until the next chapter. Sorry about that. Thanks for reading, guys! **_


	2. Hero

_**A/N: Well, this story is taking forever to write, so sorry about the lateness. Be careful here there are some POV changes that should be easy enough to figure out, but are still good to watch for (because transitions aren't really my thing…) Enjoy!**_

* * *

"_Why would you suspend someone on the first day of school?"_ I mumbled to myself in Hungarian. My mother and I were driving silently away from my school after a not so pleasant trip to the principal's office. Alfred wasn't there, but Gilbert was, looking at me with a cruel smirk as I was sent back to my house for the next two days. He was probably imagining the freedom he was going to have for the next two days while I was out of the building. Alfred wouldn't have any protection once again, and he was free to do as he pleased. What if he hurt Alfred? Would Gilbert get suspended too? Probably not, considering the whole school was full of sick homophobes who wanted to see anyone with the prefix "homo" get beaten to a pulp.

_"Elizabeta! I've been talking to you!"_

I snapped out of my thoughts and replied. _"Bocsánat, anya. I was just thinking. Gilbert is probably going to be running wild the next few days, and it's really making me worry."_

We stopped at a red light and my mother put her face in her hands. _You should not hit people, Elizabeta. This is what happened the last time you were friends with boys."_

There it was. How did I know that being friends with guys was going to be the topic brought up? She hated men ever since _apa _left for who knows where, so of course she hates me whenever I'm friends with them. No matter what I said, I was always wrong; guys were to be avoided at all costs.

We were silent for the rest of the car ride. I sat back, smelling the leather seats and reminiscing about a time when my _apa_ was with us. He seemed nice, but mom always said that something was terribly wrong with him. Not that I could figure it out, I was too young at the time. He left when I was three years old, so my memories were out of focus, but I could still remember that his hair was like mine, and his eyes were emerald as well. I wondered where he has now. zhe might know what to do.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"So, how was your day at school?" My mom was placing our dinner on the table, which was some sort of meatloaf. She always asked the same questions, and we always had the same answers.

"Fine," my brother and I said, plastering smiles to our faces.

"Oh, come on now, you two," my mother chided. "You know I want all the details. Alfred, how about you go first?"

"All right," I replied. "Um, I got an A- on the history exam, so I guess that proves that I'm kind of smart. I met the new girl from Hungary, and she's really nice. I think we're going to be friends, she seems to like me. She punched Gilbert because he took my glasses-"

"What?" My mother looked frightened. "He was bothering you again?"

"He's always bothering me," I said with a shrug. "But I'm fine with it. I have reasons for taking the abuse from that jerk."

"Reasons. Okay, we'll just go on to Matt, then."

My brother sort of stammered as he spoke. "Well, um… I-I had a teacher who remembered m-my name."

Mom clapped. "Good for you! What else?"

Mattie looked away. "Not really anything important," he said, cutting into the meatloaf in front of him.

My father muttered something from behind his newspaper. I was guessing it was another slam on my brother. Seriously, sometimes my dad was a total douche. He needed to learn to get a life and stop bothering my brother because he was just a little smaller than me.

I thought about what school would be like the next day. Lizzie wasn't going to be there, so things would be the way they always were. Not that that was a bad thing, I would be doing my job again. Yeah, the job no one could know that I had for myself. But if I didn't do my job, who would? I was a hero and stuff, it made me feel happy even though it made me feel sad. If that's even possible.

My father excused himself from the table and left to do some sort of work. My brother followed after and went to his room to do whatever he does in there. I finished and thanked my mom for dinner. She smiled and waved me off so I would stop stalling and do my homework. I guess I sort of knew she would see through my rouse.

After tirelessly working on my math homework for ten whole minutes, I managed to pull myself wearily onto my bed, where I sat and stared at the ceiling for a little bit. The walls were covered with posters of miscellaneous superheroes from when I was younger. Spiderman was occupying the corner next to the window, Batman was taped up next to the closet, and right above my head sat my greatest childhood idol, Superman. I thought back to the days of running around in just my underwear and a cape. That was fun. That was pretending to save the world. But now I was a real hero, because of the job I had given myself. Someday I would have to tell someone about it, but not now. Now it was a secret between the two of us. If anyone knew it could hurt me and my client, which was just what I was trying to avoid. Maybe tonight after some good-night's sleep I would know how to keep my job going without Lizzie getting in the way. Not that I didn't like her, I thought she was great. But if she was my friend, bad things could happen to her, to me, to my client.

I felt myself drifting into dreams as I thought. My eyes closed and I fell asleep, dreaming of flying through clouds, looking at the safe people smiling at me from below.

* * *

_**A/N: What's going on with Alfred's "job?" Why is Mattie's a "douche?" Whatever happened to Lizzie's father anyway? I'll try to get another chapter written tonight, but it will be difficult. Anyway, thank you for reading! Please review with your thoughts!**_

_**Translations: Bocsánat, anya – Sorry, mother.**_

_**Apa – father**_


	3. Discoveries

_**A/N: Okay, the next chapter is here! Again, there is a point of view shift in here, so caution. Oh, and there is some brief offensive language, so look out if you're overly sensitive. **_

"Hey, I'm back."

I turned to see Lizzie walking towards me from the main doors of the school, wearing a dark green t-shirt and some worn blue jeans. A pair of beat up converse sneakers squeaked against the floor as she stopped by my locker and unzipped her blue canvas backpack, pulling out her books for the day.

"Oh, 'sup. Um… you look different," was all I could really think to say. The last time I had seen her she had been all dressed up for her first day. The only thing remaining from that outfit was the peach colored flower in her hair.

"Yeah, I know. I hate dressing up," she said, taking a breakfast bar out from her bag. She held it out to me and looked at me expectantly.

"What?" I said after a minute.

She rolled her eyes. "You obviously didn't eat anything for breakfast. You look like you just woke up. So I'm giving this to you to eat." She held the food closer to my face. I took it and began unwrapping it.

"Thanks, Liz," I said through bites. "But… I'm kind of wondering…"

"Wondering what?" she said, looking at me through narrowed eyes.

"I'm kind of wondering whether you should be hanging around me. I mean, I'm not the kind of person people usually talk to…" I trailed off, to make sure my point got across.

Lizzie looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"Well you're wrong. I like hanging around you and there's nothing you can do to stop me," she smirked, and strolled off.

_Great,_ I thought, rummaging through my messy locker for last night's homework. _Getting my job done is going to be harder than I thought._ My brother passed by, alone in the halls. I quietly watched to make sure he was all right, then went back to my disaster area of a locker. Yes, that was what I was supposed to do. I had to do my job for him.

I talked to myself as I made my way to math class. "Why wouldn't I want to be friends with him? Of course I want to be friends with him! Why should it matter what those more popular people say? I don't care, so why should he?" I stopped and let out a little gasp. "Maybe it's me. Maybe he's mad because I went berserk and now he's embarrassed. Oh no. Now I feel awful…" My stomach sank to my feet with this realization. I felt like hitting something again, but I was sure that was a bad idea.

I realized I wasn't looking where I was stepping one second too late. My face slammed into the back of the person in front of me and I responded with a loud "Oof!" I stopped and set my books down, grabbing my nose in pain.

The person I had run into turned around. His two brown eyes looked angry from underneath his thin glasses frames. I was somewhat intrigued by them, to tell you the truth. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair, which was nearly black and had a tall curl coming wildly off of it.

"Sorry," he said, sort of sincerely.

"No, I'm fine," I replied. I really did feel just fine now. In fact, I felt like doing backflips for some reason. Did this mean… no it didn't. Of course it didn't.

"Wait, I haven't seen you before," he said. "Who are you?"

After a moment of gagging on my own throat and being unable to speak, I said "I'm Elizabeta."

His face remained the same, stern and unemotional. I realized that he probably didn't care how I felt. "I'm Roderich," he said with a nod.

Roderich. That name was nice. It sounded like something I would have heard in Hungary. It made me smile to think about it, how it sort of rolled off the tongue like molasses. Wait… what was I saying? I snapped out of it and looked away from Roderich, quickly picking my books up in my arms.

"Nice to meet you," I had said awkwardly when I heard a shout coming from down a hallway. It sounded like Gilbert. "I need to go," I said quickly, and turned right to run down the hallway towards the sound.

"Wait-" Roderich said, but I didn't hear him. Alfred could be in trouble, and I needed to be there. Gilbert's shouts grew louder and louder, and I could recognize a few others as well.

"Shut up, fag. No one cares what you think."

"You can keep trying to fight back. You know you're really weak, right? How worthless are you?"

"Be quiet, Alfred. No one can hear you."

"Why don't you run to your little boyfriend Ivan and tell him what happened?"

I didn't even hear any responses from the victim. How could someone be so quiet and let people harass them like that?

"Come on," one of them said at last. "We should go to class, or the teachers are going to go crazy on us." I caught my breath and pushed my back against the wall on the side of the door of the woodshop room, so Gilbert wouldn't see me. The door creaked open, towards me so I was hidden, and they all stepped out. I heard their footsteps walking down the hall and waited until they were far enough away to move again.

After giving myself a scolding for closing my eyes so I couldn't release information on them, I snuck into the woodshop room. All of the lights were turned off. A few desks still had designs for projects on them, and the table saw stood ominously against the darkness.

"Hello?" I said quietly. There was movement over in the corner of the room, behind one of the storage shelves. I turned quickly, because my heart was still beating at allegro, and walked towards the noise.

A boy with wavy blonde hair was sitting with his arms wrapped around his legs, his face buried in his knees. He was shuddering in great tremors, squeezing himself towards the wall as I had outside of the door. He looked like Alfred, but was instead wearing a red hooded sweatshirt. His hair was slightly longer as well; it was down to just above his chin, with a longer, wavier curl coming from it.

"Hello?" I said again, gently. He looked up from his position, his face wet with tears and a little blood. Two violet eyes shone in the darkness, made wide by the lenses of his glasses. He squeezed himself into a tighter ball.

"H-hello," he whispered. He looked broken.

"I heard them," I said, coming closer. He looked uncomfortable and clenched his fists tight.

"You heard them? Do you believe them?"

I shook my head. "No, I don't believe anything until I see it for myself."

He continued to shudder. "They –hic- said that I w-was –hic- a fag…"

I closed my eyes at the word. "I hate that," I said.

He hiccupped through tears again. "Are you –hic- okay? They didn't hurt you or anything?"

"No," I said gently. "They called you Alfred. But you aren't Al."

"Right," he replied, in a very quiet voice. "I'm his brother."

I must have looked surprised. "He didn't tell you about me," he said. "I'm not surprised. I'm Matthew. But most people call me Alfred, because they think we look alike. And then…"

He trailed off, so I put two and two together. "And so this happens to you. Because you look like him and they all think he's gay."

"He tries to take the abuse himself. He brings it upon himself to protect me," he muttered. "He calls it his job."

I stopped and looked at Matthew, who was now curled so tight he could have been invisible. I cautiously wrapped him in a hug, and he didn't object. Some blood got on my shirt, but I didn't care.

"It's great that you have such a nice older brother," I said to him.

Matthew buried his face in my shoulder. "But he's always getting hurt, and it's my fault. I'm the one who's this way, not him. He doesn't deserve the abuse."

I rubbed the still crying boy's back to calm him down. "You're the one who's what way?"

He sniffled and didn't look up. "I'm the one who's actually gay."

_**A/N: And so it comes out. Mattie is being protected by Alfred, but it seems to backfire a little bit. What will Elizabeta do for Mattie? What will she do about Roderich? I'm trying to be suspenseful, but it isn't working, so tune in next time when I actually tell you the answers to these questions! I'll try to write some more within the next week or so, because I feel very inspired. Thanks!**_


	4. Punishment

Math class was getting really boring. Lizzie hadn't shown up yet, and I was starting to worry that Gilbert had jumped her on her way to class. I got the feeling she wasn't one to be late for anything, and navigating the halls shouldn't have been that difficult, considering she had a map of the school and everything. Maybe she had an errand to run for some or something. Hopefully that was it, and she wasn't lying dead in the storage closet after getting beaten up by Gil. It was probably him being crushed instead, though.

The teacher kept droning on about some algebraic equation we were supposed to be looking at in our books. I was half listening to her, half doodling tons of random stars on my paper, when I heard a tapping noise behind me. I turned and saw Lizzie's face peering into the window in the door_. Good, she didn't get killed! _I thought as I walked to the door to open it for her. The teacher heard the door click open and signaled for her to come to the front of the class. Lizzie went, reluctantly handing her a pass from the main office, then she sat in her seat next to me.

"Hey," I whispered to her. There wasn't a response. I frowned as she began to scrawl something out on a piece of paper. She folded it neatly and set in next to me. I opened it.

_We need to talk after class._

I was a little bit confused. Was she really that hurt by what I had said that morning, about not wanting her to be my friend? What had I done? Had I hurt her feelings? I had too many emotions coming at me at once, so I jotted my response down.

_Is this about this morning? _

A second passed.

_No, it's a little more important than that. _

_ So why can't we talk about it now?_

_ Because we're trying to learn._

_ But I don't understand it._

_ Then you should pay better attention._

_ … says the girl who started the note passing in the first place._

_ … says the guy who's letting it happen._

_ Whatever, this is boring._

I passed the paper back to her with a roll of the eyes. As I turned to face the teacher I caught a glimpse of something crimson on Lizzie's green shirt. Blood. It had to be. Who had she beat up this time? I couldn't wait to hear about Gilbert getting mauled by a girl again. He deserved every bit of what little punishment he got.

Lizzie was staring. But not at the teacher, to the other side of the room at some kid… Roderich? Why was she looking at him, of all people? That guy was a stuck up prick if you ever saw one. It wasn't like he couldn't be nice or anything, but he was just so arrogant it made you want to puke. I hated arrogant people, because they always got the best grades on everything and pushed people like me out of the way, even if it wasn't intentional. I didn't see why Lizzie was drooling all over the place.

So Lizzie was all google-eyed, looking like a chameleon going cross-eyed over that guy, until the bell rang. I swear, she was so distracted that she jumped nearly five feet off the ground when it sounded. As she grabbed her stuff from off the table she glanced my way. It was obvious that she had been serious about talking after class, because she grabbed my arm and practically dragged me out into the hall. She finally stopped at a little indent in the wall, and pulled me inside.

"What are you trying to do?" I protested. Lizzie gave me a glare and I shut up pretty fast.

"Okay, Alfred. What kind of stunt are you trying to pull with your brother?"

Well, crap.

"I'm not trying to pull anything," I lied. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Lizzie's face flushed a bright red as she became even angrier. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. Matthew told me everything about your little hero complex, and it's not exactly helping him."

What? Matthew had told? I thought I could trust him with a secret. Now she knew everything about me protecting him, pretending to be him, lying about not only his, but _my_ sexuality. He was going to get it when I saw him, stupid kid. This was going to be hurting him, not me.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. "You averted your gaze, so now it's completely obvious you're lying. I guess I'm right, aren't I?"

I looked back up at her, starting to tremble. "C-can't we discuss this somewhere else?" I muttered.

"No, we can't!" she shouted. A few heads turned in our direction and I tensed up. She sighed. "We are discussing this here," she hissed. "And we are discussing this now. Do you know where I found your brother?"

"I'm not a mind reader-"

A strong hand grabbed my shirt and pulled me towards her. "Don't get smart with me. Matthew was curled in a fetal position in the woodshop room with blood streaming from his nose. Sound pleasant, Al?"

I felt the blood rush from my face. "Oh God…" was all I could say. The grip was released on me. "Oh God… where is he now?"

"I took him to the office. He's on his way home right now-"

"Home!?" Nothing good could come of this now. Nothing.

Lizzie looked insulted. "Well, of course! I'm not letting him walk around school with a bloody nose all day! People are going to question him!"

"But… no, Lizzie. You shouldn't have."

"Thanks," she said bitterly, not noting the seriousness.

"No, you really shouldn't have. Who… do you know who the office called?"

"Your father-"

"Shit!" I muttered. Lizzie gave me an angry look. "Sorry. But this is bad. Like, seriously bad."

"Why?"

"You don't know my dad, Lizzie. Mattie's going to die, I swear."

"Why, is he strict?"

I winced. I couldn't just explain it, but I couldn't stand having her not know things. This was too confusing. "You… you could say that."

"Worthless. God, you're so worthless."

Matthew shrunk back into the foyer, his head hung low. His father sat at the dining room table, muttering bitterly to himself while he worked. A flask hung in his right hand, dangling dangerously close to his fingers.

"I-I really am sorry, dad," Matthew squeaked out. Maybe this time an apology would help. It was worth a shot. Even if he was drunk again, the man could still reason a little bit.

The man stood up from the table, the chair screeching as it was forcibly pushed backward. "Oh, you're sorry," he mocked. "Well, you've been 'sorry' for the past… oh, fifteen years now. And guess what? It's never really worked for you, has it?"

"Well-" Matthew stopped as his father walked toward him, looking angrier than ever.

"You should be able to protect yourself by now!" his father shouted. "You're nearly a man! But no, I shouldn't say that. You have your little boyfriend, don't you? Do you just rely on him all the time, too? "

He felt himself grow red and shrunk back even further. "Dad, please don't bring Ivan into the conversation…" he whispered.

"Well, I just did. That kid is what's causing you to be a total wuss and not protect yourself." He was in Matthew's face now, with the boy trying to be as defiant as he knew how to be.

"Just because I love him doesn't mean-"

The response was a loud smack on the face. Now his cheek was red and stinging as his father went on with his rant. "Love him? Love this and love that, it's all you gay guys ever talk about! I'm done with it, you hear? You are not dating that kid any longer. It's making you a pansy, and that's the last thing I want. I'm not going to be known as the fag's father. It's sick."

His father stopped and turned, tired from the shouting he had done. Matthew found this to be the perfect opportunity to escape his father's rage. He tried to sneak upstairs quietly and made it to his room. The door clicked shut behind him, and Matthew locked it, just to be safe. He leapt onto his bed and buried his face in the pillow. At least it wasn't as bad as last time. Last time there was blood. It was only a small smack this time. He raised a hand to his cheek. It was still stinging where he had been struck. His heart wrenched inside of him as he felt tears beginning to form. It wasn't like other kids didn't have to deal with this sometimes. But it was a constant pattern, a constant cycle for him. Someday he would be able to get out of it. But right now, it was too dark to see the light at the end of the tunnel. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, with his father's curses and loud banging on the door disturbing the needed silence.

_**A/N: Sorry for the slow updates, it's been pretty busy lately. Hopefully thanksgiving break will give me a chance to write a little more. Thank you for reviewing, by the way, it's always appreciated! **_


	5. Laughter

_"How was your day?"_

"Fine," I replied stoically in English to my mother as I played with my cream of mushroom soup. This was the third night in a row I'd had this, and it was starting to get really old. The same went for this tradition of asking how my day was. It was always the same, over and over again, no matter how much life changed. And life changed quite a lot.

She sighed. _"That's what you always say. 'Fine.'"_

_"Yes, I know."_ I shoved a spoonful of soup into my mouth. Maybe I could avoid further questioning tonight by taking my sweet time chewing the mushrooms.

_"You know how it is, Elizabeta. I need details about your day."_

_"See?"_ I retorted, a little too evasively. _"That's what you always say, too." _

The spoon in my mother's hand dropped into her bowl with a surprisingly loud clang. _"I don't understand what's gotten into you, lately. You've been acting extremely rebellious, like you were before we moved. Do you even remember why we moved here?"_

_ "To get me away from 'bad influences,'" _I said, rolling my eyes. _"But really, maybe life just hasn't been that exciting for me. It's only my second day at school."_

_ "Not exciting?"_ My mother scoffed at my excuse. _"After hitting a boy and being suspended? It would be surprising."_

I stood up from the table, my chair screeching loudly against the tile floor. _"I don't want to talk about it," _I hissed. My bowl of soup was still left on the table to turn cold as I stormed up the stairs to my room.

My bed looked very inviting, so I lay down and stared at my ceiling. The paint had intricate designs that had been left by the brushstrokes. They swirled in different directions, unlike most ceilings, where it was straight. It made me wonder who had painted it. They could have been trying to let out their swirling emotions with their work. What was their life like? Maybe they were from another country, too. Maybe they didn't have an_ apa_, either. It was wishful thinking. I knew no one could be in the exact same position as me. It was probably one forty year old man with a wife and two kids, working as a home decorator, or something of the sort.

I had the urge to call Alfred and see how his brother was doing, but I knew my mother could pick up the landline downstairs to listen, and I had left my cellphone downstairs as well. So I sat, thinking, lost in a dreamlike quiet. It was at times like these when I wished my brain would just turn off so I could slip away into sleep and dream of nothing but calm nothing.

But no, my brain switched to thinking about my mother. I couldn't tell her about school, could I? She would worry about my safety, as she always did, and my mother worrying was just about the scariest thing anyone could ever see. I would get transferred to another school again, and I wouldn't ever see Alfred or Matthew again, as my mother and I would avoid contact with the rest of the world in order to protect ourselves from… whatever she was scared of.

"I need to stop thinking," I said to myself. "The phone is the only option." After leaping off of my bed, I ran to my desk, where the student directory was lying face down on top of a pile of messily stacked, unused drawing paper. I flipped hastily through the pages, looking for someone to talk to, to get my mind off of everything. Alfred probably wasn't going to help, considering he was part of the issue. Maybe I could talk to that one girl who tried to hang out with me on the first day of school. She didn't seem like she was that bad, even if she was a little annoying. My eyes scanned the page I was on until they gravitated towards one name in particular: _Edelstein._

No, that was dangerous. Calling him after running into him in the hall, what a stupid thing to do/ But he was really the only other person I knew, wasn't he? I reluctantly picked up the telephone and dialed the number. My fingers drummed impatiently on the desk as the phone rang on the other end.

There was a click on the other end of the line. "Hallo?" a voice said.

"Hello," I replied. "Can I please speak to Roderich?"

There was a pause. "…who is this?"

"Tell him it's Elizabeta, the new girl from Hungary."

"Hold on one second." There was a call to Roderich, muffled by a hand over the phone. I heard someone walking down some stairs, then the sharp sound of the phone being traded off. "Hallo?" came another voice I recognized as Roderich's right away.

"Um… hello." I said awkwardly.

"Who is this again?" he asked.

"It's the girl who bumped into you in the hallway," I replied. "I was just calling to…" I quickly thought of an excuse. "I was just calling to apologize for, you know… running into you… at school…"

"Oh, it's okay, but… how did you get my number?"

Oh god, he thought I was stalking him, didn't he. I squinted up my face in anger. How could I have been so stupid? "It was in the directory. They gave it to me because I'm a new student here. Don't worry, I'm not trying to be creepy."

Roderich laughed. It sounded pleasant. "I didn't think you were. But thanks for apologizing, even though it really wasn't a problem. It shows a lot about someone's character when they call just to apologize."

A small giggle escaped my lips. Wait, a giggle? I quickly covered my mouth, hoping he hadn't heard. I didn't giggle. Something was completely wrong with me today. I tried to clear my throat and began again. To me it sounded as though I was coughing up a whale. "Well, I just wanted to call and talk to someone, and you seemed like the right person to talk to."

I could almost see the wheels turning in Roderich's head. "But what about Alfred?" he asked suddenly.

My heart skipped. Did he know everything that was going on? "I just couldn't talk to him today, that's all. He's… busy after school."

"Busy?" he replied with more than a touch of disbelief. "I'm sorry, but I don't think of him as someone who would be very busy after school. What's really going on?"

I sighed and shook my head. "I want to talk about it, but… I don't want to at the same time. It's like a bomb waiting to go off. If I don't tell people it will explode, if I do it will explode too. But either way people are going to get hurt in the process. If people know it could be even worse, and I don't want to hurt anyone more than I need, and-."

"Woah. Slow down. I can't hear a word you're saying."

I sighed. It was time to confess to someone what was going on, for better or for worse. It was eating me from the inside, and I wasn't going to deal with that any longer. "Well… what do you know of Matthew?"

"Who?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'll start from the beginning, then."

* * *

It was oddly silent when I returned home from school. I expected more of a mess than there was when I stepped into our foyer. No broken glass, not a single picture out of place. Maybe dad had gone easy on him this time. Well… easier than he would normally act, considering there wasn't an easy side to dad.

I shrugged and jumped up the stairs, trying to make it known that I was home now by making as much noise as possible. There wasn't a response. I figured that meant that dad had gone back to work. After making it past the top step, I grabbed the knob to the door of my room and pulled. The door made an awful screeching sound and refused to open. I tried again, jiggling the knob loudly. "Hello?" I called into the room. "Can I come in, or am I trapped out here for the rest of my life?"

I heard a bed creak and the lock click. My brother opened the door, frowning. "Here," he said, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Gosh, what did I interrupt that was so important?" I asked as I walked through the doorway and threw my schoolbag over to my bed.

He leapt back onto his own bed and lay there, sprawled out. "Sleep," he muttered. "It was a crappy day and I need sleep."

"Well. Someone's grumpy," I said, pulling out my homework. "But seriously. What did dad do this time?"

My brother turned to me, his eyes wide. "You mean she told you? About me being-"

"Yeah she told me. She nearly murdered me over everything that's happened. It's crazy, she's only been here for five days and is already getting involved in people's business. But she's right."

"Wait… what?"

"I said she's right."

Mattie smiled. "That's the first time you've ever admitted to being wrong."

"That's because I've never been wrong before," I laughed.

"Oh, that's what you think-"

"Oh my god. Matt, just shut up let me be right," I kidded. He laughed and threw his fluffy polar bear at me.

"Hey!" I shouted, throwing it back at him. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my iPod. Matthew narrowed his eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked as I plugged the iPod into the speakers on my bed stand.

"Mom and Dad aren't home, are they?"

"No, dad left a little while ago," he said. He looked distant as he spoke.

I smiled. "Then I'm going to make everything up to you, or at least try to," I said, turning the volume all the way up. "We're going to have our own little party."

"Wait wha-" The music began blaring, cutting Matthew off. The tears on his face were nearly blown off by the sound. I stood and began dancing, as awfully as possible. Arms flailing and legs moving in spasms, I danced over to his bed.

"You suck!" Matthew mouthed at me.

"I'd like to see you do better," I shouted, dragging him to his feet and over to join our little celebration. He laughed. It was beautiful, making him laugh like this. Maybe I was just going about everything the wrong way this entire time. Maybe all he needed was a little party.

We danced together for what seemed like hours, trying to be as awkward as possible. Our faces painted with smiles, a random jumble of arms and legs, blanketed by music, we danced. There was no stopping until we heard the garage door open, at which point as both shut the music off and sat on our beds, trying not to laugh as our mother came in and said hello.

_So having a brother doesn't mean having to shelter him,_ I thought to myself as I watched Mattie holding back his smile. _Elizabeta was right about that. Having a brother means loving him, no matter the circumstances. I should try that from now on._

My mother closed the door and we looked at each other for a moment, then broke out in obnoxious laughter.

_**A/N: Sorry this took so long to upload! I had to think about where it was going! Please, review and tell me what you think! Also, thank you to all of you who are following or favorited. It makes me proud to be making you cry, or smile, or whatever you're feeling. Hopefully I get another chapter or two up in the next few weeks. **_


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